


Water's up above my head but I won't drown, I'm not done yet

by thunderingskies



Series: You bring out the worst in me [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Character Analysis, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 22:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10397892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: They say that time heals all wounds.But does it, really?It feels like with every passing second of every passing day, Tooru’s heart grows heavier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the previous parts in this series, please do! This series is far from over - I appreciate each and every one of the comments left here, so thank you!! :)

They say that time heals all wounds.

But does it, really?

It feels like with every passing second of every passing day, Tooru’s heart grows heavier.

He feels the weight in every step he takes, dragging him down, anchoring him in place. He feels it in every breath he struggles to take, in every moment that he lays in bed wondering, thinking,  _ worrying _ , hating himself. 

This is, unequivocally, the most difficult thing that he’s ever had to do.

He walks out of Hajime’s apartment and keeps his promise. He doesn’t go back.

He’s been heartbroken for so long, and it’s all catching up with him now, too fast and too violently.

The first few days are the hardest. He doesn’t leave his apartment, and barely remembers to eat. He takes a few days off work. Makki and Mattsun check on him in rotation, and so does his next-door neighbour. They bring him food, make him get up, move around. Shower. Mattsun bribes him out of his apartment to go and meet his new puppy after the first week. Makki treats him to a meal at his favourite cafe. 

He’s grateful to them, but he hardly remembers how to talk, and he definitely can’t thank them properly at the time. He doesn’t talk about what happened with Hajime right away. It hurts too much. Makki even just asking about it almost sends him into another panic attack... He thought he was done with those years ago. 

He thought wrong.

Wednesday comes, and Tooru doesn’t go to visit Hajime. Mattsun keeps him company instead, in his apartment, and they watch some shitty movie Tooru won’t remember. He spends the entire night staring at the clock on his wall, ticking away slowly, another minute passing that he should be spending with Hajime, but isn’t.

Well, maybe not should. Tooru’s trying to come to terms with the fact that he made the right decision, but every time Mattsun and Makki remind him, his stomach turns and he wants to scream.

_ How can it be the right thing when it feels so wrong? _

Deep down, he knows it’s the right thing, but he buries that truth down deep, because it’s too painful to think about.

Wednesday passes, and Tooru wakes up breathing a little bit better than before.

Whether or not he wants to admit it, Hajime was suffocating him. He feels the bruising grip around his throat lessen with each passing day that he spends away from him.

He cries a lot. Struggles to get out of bed, to shower, to go to work, but he makes himself do it. He’s going through the motions, and he knows it, but he can’t stop. He knows that the second he stops, the second he lets himself go, that it’s going to be that much harder to pull himself up again.

The time that passes makes things easier, but nothing is  _ healed. _ Tooru doesn’t stop feeling broken. 

Can you really be healed, when you’re broken like that, with no closure to speak of?

It’s two weeks without visiting when Tooru’s cell phone rings, late in the evening as he’s laying in bed.

The contact reads  _ Hajime _ .

Tooru shakes as he watches his phone flash, vibrating in his palm. He drops it on the bed, his grip faltering, stomach flipping as he looks at the name, and the lack of a contact picture, even though everyone else in Tooru’s contact list has a special selfie by their name.

It feels like an eternity before his phone stops ringing. 

He doesn’t sleep that night, terrified that his phone will start ringing again, but it doesn’t. So he has to pick himself up like normal the next day and push through it, hoping that the longer he  _ acts _ normal, the sooner he’ll  _ feel _ normal.

He starts to forget what normal even is, but feels like maybe he’s getting closer to it. Truth be told, not having this hanging over his head makes him feel like he can breathe again.  _ Live _ again.

Maybe that’s how he winds up in front of Hajime’s apartment building a few weeks later, kicking at the dirt with the toe of his shoe, hands deep in his pockets.

He doesn’t want to  _ see _ Hajime, but he needs  _ something _ . Some closure.

He feels guilty because he feels  _ better _ . He’s starting to see how good a decision this was, how important it was, and that makes him feel guilty. Because he shouldn’t feel better about cutting Hajime out, especially when he has so many questions about what he’s doing now, but he does. He can  _ breathe again _ , and that in itself is so, so freeing.

He steps up to the door like he’s done a thousand times before, eyes scanning the list of names of the residents. He knows where Hajime’s name is-

Or, rather, where it _ should _ be. 

Instead of the  _ Iwaizumi Hajime _ that was messily engraved on the nameplate, there’s a blank spot lacking a resident name.

What?

Tooru tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, looking through again - maybe it was moved? - glancing at each name, trying to find the one he’s looking for…

Only it’s not there. Every other spot is filled except for that one, and none of them are Hajime’s name. In a panic, Tooru does the only thing he can think of, and hits the buzzer for the landlord’s apartment. He feels anxious, waiting for a response.

Five minutes later and the landlord is stepping out, looking extremely unhappy that Tooru repeatedly rang the buzzer until he finally got off his ass to come and talk to him.

“What?” He frowns, making a face. “You look kinda familiar.”

Tooru shifts on his feet, pointing to the empty nameplate. “Iwaizumi Hajime. Is he gone?”

“Huh?” The landlord looks over at the nameplate, and then huffs. “Yeah, and good fucking riddance. Yeah, he left. He took his shit and split… he left the place a mess too, so he can forget about getting that security deposit back. We had to use that to pay a cleaning service.” He scoffs, eyes on Tooru. “He was late with rent a lot, too. Should have kicked him out ages ago.” He takes a step back, and opens up the door again, “Now lay off the buzzer or I’ll kick you off my property.” 

With that, the landlord slams the door in Tooru’s face.

Tooru blinks, a lump in his throat. Hajime didn’t get kicked out. He didn’t die. Wherever he went, he had the sense of mind to pack up his things and take him with him.

It’s not much to go on, really, but it’s  _ something _ . It helps to alleviate some of the guilt hanging around him, and Tooru walks away, breathing even lighter now.

* * *

 

Tooru doesn’t really feel  _ healed _ , but as weeks pass, he starts to feel human again.

He doesn’t realize just what a huge strain all of this was on him until suddenly, it’s all gone… and he’s  _ Tooru _ again. He’s not spending all of his time figuring out what to say to Hajime, or what to do. He’s  _ himself  _ again, and there’s some sort of beauty in that, however small it may be.

He still thinks about Hajime, of course, but it’s not so gut-wrenching. It isn’t all-consuming.

He’s walking down the street one day, when the silhouette of a man catches his eye.

It looks like-

Hajime?

On the streets?  _ Homeless _ ?

His heart drops, and he races over to check, because he  _ can’t be here- _

But when he gets close, he sees it’s not Hajime. It’s not him. He breathes deeply, shaking his head. It’s not Hajime, it’s not  _ him, _ but-

He does recognize guy for a different reason, though. He’s seen him with Hajime, buying from his dealer, before. The words are out of his mouth before he can really think about them. “Hey. Iwaizumi Hajime, do you know where he is?”

This guy is in no place to talk; he’s wrecked, stumbling, having trouble focusing on Tooru. He doesn’t respond until Tooru puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little in his haste. 

“Fuck, I-I don’t know for sure man…” He cough, and Tooru tries to will himself to relax. “I heard a rumor that he went to rehab. No idea if he can make it… I haven’t seen him in days now…” He shrugs, noncommittally, and Tooru isn’t sure if he heard him correctly.

“Rehab?” He asks, quietly. He hardly dares to say the word out loud, it’s become almost taboo. The guy nods, and walks off.

It takes Tooru a little while before he can move again.

Is Hajime really in rehab? Is that where he went?  _ Finally? _

Tooru can’t be sure, but it’s something tangible, something that he didn’t invent. He holds onto it, keeping it close to his heart, and hoping that maybe someday Hajime will be free, like him.


End file.
